


of hopes and doubts

by amuk



Category: Voltron: Legendary Defender
Genre: Alternate Universe - Fantasy, Comfort, Established Relationship, Fluff, Hopeful Ending, Humor, M/M, Missing Scene, Pre-War, Romance, Strategy & Tactics
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2021-02-27
Updated: 2021-02-27
Packaged: 2021-03-18 03:48:36
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,032
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/29727873
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/amuk/pseuds/amuk
Summary: Rage was easy. Keith had a lot to be angry about: the war looming over his head, Allura’s futile peace talks, Shiro’s inability to blame any of the gods for what happened. Yet, when Shiro took his hand, it was hard to be anything but grateful for this last moment alone together.
Relationships: Allura & Keith (Voltron), Allura & Shiro (Voltron), Keith/Shiro (Voltron)
Comments: 2
Kudos: 13
Collections: Across the Universe: A Sheith Myths & Fairytales Zine





	of hopes and doubts

**Author's Note:**

> For the Across the Universe Zine! I actually made this as a companion piece to go with another Mahabharata!based Voltron piece, but this one is getting posted first hilariously.

“This was the worst plan,” Keith bit out, pacing back and forth on the red stone floor. The cool stone did nothing to reduce his temper, his irritation spiking with every turn he made. As his footsteps echoed in the vast chamber, the domed roof echoing every noise, he barked at his partner, “We shouldn’t have agreed. I shouldn’t have agreed. We all know how this is going to end and we still did it.”

“Is it really that bad?” Reclining on a pillow on the ground, Shiro watched him with an amused grin. Dressed in cool silk, his expression serene, Shiro looked practically unflappable. With the plates of fruit and fancy dishes around him, he looked like he was at a picnic instead of at a strategy meeting. One would be forgiven for not thinking a war was taking place the next day. That Shiro would be at the forefront of that war. Remaining calm was what a leader was all about, but Keith wished that sometimes Shiro would show his true feelings more. At least to him, if to no one else.

There was no way he could actually feel that calm. No one could.

“Of course it is,” Keith snapped, displeased. “They’ve done—” His expression softened as his eyes fell on Shiro’s right arm, on the marks that lined his flesh, and he quietly added. “You of all people should know that.”

Picking up on his emotions, Shiro rubbed his arm for a long moment. “They have done a lot.” He stared at his arm contemplatively before turning back to Keith, a reassuring smile one his face. “Still, it’s worth a shot. It could prevent the war.”

“Sure. If she wasn’t talking to _Lotor_ of all people,” Keith growled, crossing his arms. Was he the only one who thought this plan was terrible? Well, maybe Lance had agreed with him, but that thought didn’t comfort him at all. Of all the people to be on his side, it had to be the moron. “He’s not going to change his mind. He doesn’t back down from anything. He doesn’t even compromise.”

“You don’t know that,” Shiro disagreed, pursing his lips. “Allura is pretty persuasive. If anyone can convince Lotor, it’s her.”

“If _anyone_ could, sure. But no one can. Otherwise, we wouldn’t even be here in the first place. There wouldn’t be a war.” His feet continued its steady pace, treading and retreading the same path. Despite this being a minor palace, the rooms were larger than he was used to. Mirrors and candles were inlayed in niches in the walls and he could make out his distorted reflection as he marched past them. “This could have all been over years ago.”

“True, but people can grow. Can change. You’ve already seen it with some of our allies.” Shiro pointed out. Picking a mango slice off a nearby silver plate, he bit into it as he mused, “Maybe Lotor just needed time or a change in perspective.”

“He needs a new perspective, alright.” Mango juice dribbled down Shiro’s lip and down his neck. The orange drop slid to his bare chest, a trail leading lower and lower and—Keith dragged his eyes away from the drop; now wasn’t the time to be thinking about that. Or about wanting to lic—no, he was not going to think about it at all. They were strategizing for a war. He had a princess to worry about.

His lover would have to wait till later.

God, was it hot tonight.

Keith cleared his throat, forcing himself back to business. “Those other guys aren’t the crown prince of an enemy nation. He did half the things we’re fighting against.” He ground his heel onto the floor as he paced his quarters once more. Even the huge room, he felt trapped, a tiger pacing in a golden cage. “We shouldn’t have let her go alone. He could hurt her. He _has_ hurt her.”

Shiro winced at the memory. It wasn’t like anyone could forget it any time soon, the time Lotor had snuck into their ranks and then broken them. It had been an almost fatal attack on their rebellion. “Just…trust her. She’s stronger than you think. She’s half-goddess, remember? That makes her pretty sturdy.”

“She’s also half-Altean,” Keith pointed out contrarily. “And they’re pretty fragile.”

Setting aside his peel, Shiro finally got up. Clasping Keith’s hand, he pulled him to a stop. “Come on, if you keep pacing like that, you’ll burn a hole in the ground.”

“Great, then maybe I can make a tunnel to the Galra and end this war myself,” Keith grumbled, but he didn’t pull away. There was something comforting about the strength in Shiro’s hand, in how firmly his fingers grasped his wrist. It was grounding and he could feel his worry ebb away slightly.

“Sure. But for now, let’s go the balcony. It’s pretty hot tonight.” Shiro gently tugged Keith, heading to the other side of the room toward the balcony. Thin, gauzy curtains covered the exit, a repellent against the mosquitos and other denizens of the night. Small charms clattered gently as they stepped out into the night air, wards to protect them from the demons and angry gods.

Keith took a deep breath as they approached the balcony railing. It wasn’t any cooler out here than it was inside. His skin was slick with sweat and even as a night breeze ran over his bare chest, he didn’t feel any better. His red lungi clung to his legs and from the corner of his eye, he caught Shiro discretely fanning himself. There was no relief from this heat, just surviving through it. Maybe if they went up north, to the mountains—but no, even that would have to wait till the war was over.

It was a strange thought. _When the war was over._ They had been fighting the Galra for so many years, he’d forgotten what that was like. If only Lotor and his father hadn’t usurped the crown from Allura. Or if the gods, in their fits of whimsy and amusement, hadn’t joined sides, throwing fuel to the fire whenever it suited them.

A blasphemous thought, perhaps. Then again, Keith had never been one for convention.

Still, tomorrow was the final battle. The exiled princess would be banished no longer. Whether it was through death or victory, it would all be over.

“So? Feeling better?” Shiro asked, leaning against the railing. He closed his eyes, taking a deep breath. “Smells great.”

“As long as I don’t smell you,” Keith scoffed, begrudgingly taking a spot to Shiro’s right. Jasmine and Queen of the Night grew plentiful here, in pots and crawling up trellises. In the night, their flowers opened wide, giving the air a sweet, cloying scent. “And it’s still hot.”

“Well…not much we can do about that,” Shiro admitted sheepishly, scratching his chin. He glanced down. “Seems you’re not the only one restless tonight.”

Keith followed his gaze to the garden below. Moonlight glinted off the many fountains that dotted the messy garden; Allura liked nature its natural state. Or, as Hunk liked to call it, she didn’t want to waste money on upkeep. Next to one of the many streams, the red tiger quietly prowled, his tail lashing behind him. Nearby, the black tiger kept watch, and Keith snickered. Bonded as they were to these messengers of the gods, it seemed bits of their personalities had rubbed of onto the magical beasts.

“For something divine, they don’t really feel like it.” Keith commented. Elbow on the rail, he rested his jaw on his hand and observed them. They looked like bigger versions of the pampered palace cats, examining curiously new and foreign scents. There would be plenty now, with all the reinforcements they’d called.

“Colours aside, they look just like normal tigers.” Shiro leaned forward, gazing at them with pure wonder. Despite all that they’d seen, all that they’d gone through, that aspect of him didn’t change. He was pragmatic but still optimistic, always believing in the best. It was something Keith loved and worried over. “I wonder sometimes, if we act like them or they act like us.”  
  


“If it’s the first, that’d explain why Lance is a little smarter,” he commented snidely, a mocking smile on his face.

“Keith,” Shiro admonished, but his tone was entirely ruined by the smile he fought down.

With a careless shrug, Keith muttered, “You think it too.” He raised a brow, daring Shiro to refute him. “Right?”

Shiro stared at him a long moment. The corner of his lips twitched, a laugh threatening to emerge, and he quickly forced his gaze away. “Lance has his strengths,” he answered, his voice cracking slightly as he tried to control his emotions. “He’s saved you a few times.”

Keith didn’t say anything, a scowl forming on his face. There were things better left forgotten or, barring that, unsaid.

“He did, didn’t he?” Shiro teased, leaning closer. There was a light lit to his voice and he rested his head on Keith’s shoulder. “You remember, right?”

“A few,” Keith reluctantly admitted, spitting the words out like they were poison. “But don’t ever repeat that to him. Can’t let his big head get any bigger.”

“I won’t.” Shiro promised. It was completely unconvincing considering how much he was laughing. “You two are at it like monkeys.” He took a deep breath, calming down. With a serious expression, he added, “Just don’t let it get in the way on the battlefield.”

“I won’t.” Keith shrugged nonchalantly.

“You’ve said that before.” Shiro stared at him doubtfully. His brow furrowed. “Several times, actually.”

“And I mean it every time,” Keith muttered, moodily leaning forward on the rail and resting his head on his hands. “You didn’t make him promise.”

Shiro stared at him a long time before giving up with a sigh. “Just make it through tomorrow in one piece, okay? I know you two can work together that long.”

Keith glanced at him, then away. To be quite honest, he wasn’t sure anymore how much he hated Lance. Part of it felt more like he was going through the motions, clinging to a disgust he no longer fully felt. And then at other times, Lance would do something idiotic and he felt entirely justified. “I will. I promise. You…you be careful too.”

“Of course.” Shiro stepped closer, until their shoulders touch. His skin was warm, almost uncomfortably so, but Keith didn’t step away. Instead, he leaned into it. “We promised, didn’t we? I’m not leaving you.”

“Yeah.” Keith swallowed and looked down, keeping his gaze fixed on the gardens below. “Your arm…it feels so real.”

“It does.” Shiro flexed his right hand, his fingers curling in and out of a fist. The whole appendage looked indiscernible from his left arm—from his dark brown skin to his long fingers to even the muscular tone. The only things that marked it as unnatural were the long trellis of red ink that marked his skin, as though henna patterns were permanently etched onto his skin. “It even acts like the real thing. If a bit stronger. The gods were generous when they gave me this arm, though perhaps that’s because Allura had begged them to do so.”

“Generous?” Keith snorted, standing straight. Even now he could remember how cold Shiro had been, the blood pouring out of his arm endlessly. The colour fading from Shiro’s skin as Allura pleaded with her father to save him. “There’s nothing generous about this. You lost your arm in a war that they started. Because they’re _bored_. And now we have to fight it and we have to die in it, and for what?”

“Sacrificing this arm saved Allura,” Shiro pointed out, his voice soft. “And the Galra would have attacked either way. You know Zarkon was gearing up toward it. If he hadn’t, Lotor would have.”

If there was one thing Keith couldn’t stand, it was Shiro’s kind, patient expression. His gentle words. As though he didn’t feel anything about the loss of his arm. As though it didn’t matter if the gods had started it all, he’d clean it up.

And he would. That was Shiro—always fixing problems, always taking care of others but never himself.

“The gods still made this worse than it had to be! They kept poking and prodding where they shouldn’t have, just throwing fuel into the fire.” Keith snarled, tired of it all. The final battle was tomorrow and they might not survive. He pressed his hand against Shiro’s right arm. “Some gift! Even if you survive, they’re taking this back after. It’s only until Allura’s crowned, right? They’re gods, this wouldn’t even mean anything to them, and they still can’t let you have it.”

Shiro fell quiet, unable to refute his points.

Maybe they should have gone to the mountains after all. Just stayed away from this whole business of being Allura’s protectors, of following and guarding her throughout her long exile. There had been a moment, when they’d met the tigers, that Keith had believed it was worth it.

Now, now all he could feel was that it was a trap and he was just another piece on a giant chessboard. They all were.

“Keith.” Breaking the silence, Shiro held Keith’s hands in his own, gently tugging him toward him. He brushed a thumb on the back of Keith’s hands in soothing circles. “You’re right.”

Keith blinked, not expecting this admission. He jerked his head back to Shiro. “What?” He had expected an admonishment, a resigned sigh, anything but an agreement.

“None of this is right and the gods might have just made it worse.” Shiro reached up, cradling Keith’s cheek with his fake hand. It felt as soft as skin, as warm as his other hand, and despite himself, Keith leaned into his touch. “But I can touch you like this again, even if it’s only for a little bit. I saved Allura’s life. And I don’t regret any of it, despite how and why it happened.” He leaned closer, pulling Keith down until their foreheads touched. “I can’t be angry like you. Only grateful.” His thumb brushed Keith’s cheek tenderly.

“I know you can’t,” Keith softly whispered. It felt as though if he spoke any louder, the moment would end and the war would start. And he wanted more of Shiro’s touch, more time together. It felt like they never had enough time, running from battle to battle. He reached up, covering Shiro’s hand with his own and closed his eyes. “That’s who you are.”

“Just like I know you’ll never let this go, it’s who you are,” Shiro answered, his voice gentle.

They stood there, just breathing in and out. Their scents intertwined with that of the night flowers and if there was one thing that Keith was willing to give the gods credit for, it was for creating all of this. For creating this universe, this world, Shiro.

For Shiro, always.

A whistling sound carried through the night air and Keith reluctantly pulled away. Scanning the night sky, he could just barely make out the shape of a glowing, white dot approaching them through the air. The white tiger was returning. And with it, Allura.

“She’s back,” Shiro said, watching as the dot came closer and closer. “I guess we’ll have our answer soon”

“Yeah.” Keith sighed. One way or another, this was the end of it all. He clasped Shiro’s hand tightly.

As the dot came closer and closer, Keith could start making out the white tiger’s shape and the faint form of Allura on top. Her shoulders were slumped slightly, the way she always got when she thought she was alone and everything was just too much.

Bad news, then.

Keith hated it when he was right.

When she was close enough to make out her expression, Allura straightened up. Shoulders rolled back, lips pursed, she gave them a solemn nod as her partner soared through the air past them. “We leave at daybreak,” she said.

No further details were needed. Shiro and Keith bowed slightly as she soared past to her quarters.

“I guess this is it,” Shiro stated, his expression heavy. He watched as she landed on her balcony and dismounted quickly. When the princess disappeared hurriedly into her quarters, he added, “It ended badly.”

“Obviously,” Keith snorted derisively. “It was Lotor. There’s no other way it could have ended.”

“You never know,” Shiro replied half-heartedly. He stared at her empty balcony once more before turning around. “I should check on her.”

Keith glanced at him. Shiro’s expression was weary and Keith suddenly realized just how much his lover had been banking on this discussion.

Shiro didn’t move. “She’s probably not taking it well.”

It wasn’t like Shiro was taking it any better, but for once Keith silenced his caustic tongue. There was a war tomorrow. One or the other or even both of them could die. It was a last night, few hours really at this point.

The mango juice was still on Shiro’s chest, a dried sticky mess.

“I should go,” Shiro repeated tiredly.

“You should,” Keith agreed, taking Shiro’s hand.

“Huh?” Shiro looked at him in surprise, not expecting this response at all.

“She’ll need your advice,” Keith continued, gently leading Shiro back into their quarters.

“I…” Shiro blinked, not sure how to respond. “Yes.”

“And you have to look your best.” Ignoring his lover’s questioning stare, Keith headed toward the blankets and pillows that made up their bed. Silently, he yanked Shiro down, pushing him until he lay flat on his back. Without a moment’s pause, he straddled Shiro.

“Keith.” Shiro stared up at him, bewildered. “What are you doing?”

“Cleaning you up.” Keith leaned forward, a smirk on his face as he kissed Shiro’s lips. “Can’t let you see the princess all messy like this.” He licked Shiro’s chin, the mango juice sweet on his tongue. “Coran’d throw a fit.”

If they were going to die tomorrow, Keith was going to savour tonight. The gods owed him this much, at least.


End file.
